


Bargaining Chips

by nauticalparamour



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Basically PWP, F/M, Modern AU, Roleplay, dub con, dubcon, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 21:16:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15957710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalparamour/pseuds/nauticalparamour
Summary: When Hermione gets caught trying to steal documents from the Death Eaters, the Order won't negotiate to get her back. Tom Riddle wonders if there is anything else she can offer him for her freedom.





	Bargaining Chips

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, okay, so I guess I did this? This is definitely like the...smuttiest thing I've ever written. I never actually signed up for a prompt, but this was meant to be the dubcon/roleplay prompt. I really hope that you guys like it -- let me know what you think.

Tom Riddle is staring down at his cellphone, the blue of the display screen lighting up the angular features of his face, when Hermione finally deigns to look up from her wrists, tied together with a paltry bit of rope. The bindings are so thin that it is nearly insulting, but Hermione has not been able to free herself no matter how much she tries.

 

He does not look up from the phone he is tapping away on when he finally speaks to her. “Glaring at me isn’t going to change anything, sweetheart,” he said with an infuriating smirk that has her flushed red in an instant.

 

“It might not, but it does make  _ me _ feel a bit better,” Hermione snapped back at him, hating being faced with how useless she is in that moment. From where she is perched on the desk, her feet do not even touch the ground, swinging beneath her barefoot, her high heels long since discarded.

 

Tom looks up at her no longer absorbed in whatever text he’d been ignoring her for. He makes a disappointed noise, shaking his head side to side. “It’s tragic, isn’t it, Granger? Your little  _ friends _ have only three minutes left to meet my demands, and it doesn’t seem as if they are going to rescue you after all,” he teased her with mock sincerity.

 

Hermione bristles at his words. “I already  _ told _ you, Riddle, that the Order will never negotiate with you,” she countered. “Not for me, at least,” she tacts on bitterly.

 

She had been stupid, so stupid really, going out on her own without telling anyone, only to be snatched up by Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters, a rival  _ organization _ . Of course, she knew it was one of the risks of becoming involved with people like the Order of the Phoenix in the first place, but she had thought she was smarter and more clever than she really was.

 

It had been a masquerade ball, held at Lucius Malfoy’s estate, and she had been positive she’d be able to sneak in among the guests, slip into an office, and retrieve the documents that she needed, all without being seen.

 

She’d been terribly, terribly wrong.

 

“Oh, and I suppose you think that I’ll just let you walk out of here then?” Tom asked, his voice haughty and sarcastic in equal measures. “I’m not going to let you go without a price.”

 

“Well, then, I suppose you’ll be holding onto me for a long time,” she said, trying not to pout. “Dumbledore won’t give you anything for my safe return.” Her eyes roved over his face, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the angle of his nose, his slightly parted lips. With deep blue eyes and dark, perfectly done hair, Tom Riddle was nothing if not handsome.

 

_ Pity he’s evil then, _ Hermione thought snidely to herself.

 

He stood up from the chair he was sitting in, then, returning his mobile into his pocket, only to close the distance between him. His suit jacket lay discarded on the chair he’d been sitting in, and he now brought his long fingers up to the cufflinks on his sleeves, twisting them to remove, before pocketing these as well. “What am I going to do with you, Granger?” he asked with a sigh, though the smirk on his face suggested he was not upset by the supposed  _ hardship _ at all.

 

“Just let me go,” Hermione demanded, craning her neck to look up at his face. “It’s not like the Order will touch me again now that you’ve caught me--” her breath caught in her throat as she watching him rolling up his shirt sleeves, revealing the skull and snake tattoo that all the Death Eaters wore.

 

Tom took a step closer, uncaring that their legs were no pressed together. He grabbed her by the chin, turning her face up to look at him once again, before giving her a patronizing grin. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I told you that I wasn’t going to let you go without a price,” he teased, before bringing his thumb up to trace against her full bottom lip. “Can’t you think of... _ anything _ you’d like to give me in exchange for your freedom?”

 

Hermione gasped, trying to recoil from him, before glaring up at him once more. “If looks could kill, Riddle...” she snarled back at him, unable to get free of his grasp.

 

“That doesn’t sound like a denial, does it?” he asked, pressing forward so that her legs were forced to open to accommodate him. “But then again, you aren’t really in a position to deny me, are you?”

 

His fingers found the tie that held her slinky, silvery wrap dress closed at her waist at the same time that his lips found her mouth, slanting across her in a possessive, all-consuming kiss. Parting her lips with ease, she was powerless to stop his tongue from slipping into her mouth. Despite all her best intentions, Hermione moaned into him, the way that he moved against her sending heat zinging all the way to her fingers and toes, radiating out from her center. Tom was in the lead, and she was just along for the ride.

 

Slowly, he pressed her back to lean against the desk, until her back was flat against it, and he was looming on top of her. Everywhere she looked was Tom, one hand in her hair while the other pulled the sides of her dress apart, exposing her to the cold air of the office, all the while their mouths moved together, locked in a battle of wills that Hermione was determined not to give up on. He nibbled and bit at her lower lip, before sucking it into his mouth, his tongue moving against the abused flesh to soothe the ache, a delicate push and pull that had her keening against him despite her best efforts. Breaking away from his kiss when she thought she might give into him, Hermione turned her head to the side, gasping in a lungful of air.

 

Tom was not to be deterred though, his mouth never giving up contact with her fevered skin. He kissed down the side of her jaw to the column of her neck, nipping at the pale skin. 

 

She was nearly mewling at the treatment, her mind hazy with the feeling of his lips on her fevered skin. It was only once he’d finally reached the top of the bra that Hermione snapped back into herself. “Riddle -- stop that,” she scolded, not sounding very convincing. “Have you lost your mind? What are you doing?”

 

His blue eyes were sparking with a purposeful sort of mischief as he smirked up at her from his vantage point, but didn’t make any move to answer her questions. He opened his mouth and captured her nipple through the delicate lace of her bra, swirling his tongue around the hard point.

 

Hermione moaned in embarrassment, her cheeks turning pink, when she felt her nipples tighten in desire and wetness form between her legs. It felt  _ so good _ ...

 

Her eyes snapped open when she felt his hand pushing the band of her bra up over her breasts, offering him unhindered access to her body. His hand pinched and rolled her neglected nipple mercilessly, making her toes curl up in pleasure. Her fingers had tangled with his dark hair despite her wrists being held together, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she was trying to push him away or hold him closer to her.

 

Tom was driving her crazy with his endless pattern of licks and sucks, possessive and greedy, as though he’d wanted this for a long time. The thought of that was preposterous, though, as she knew they were on opposite sides of this little turf war. “Oh god, Riddle,” she whispered, knowing that she should be telling him to get off of her, or kneeing him in the groin, but the things that he was doing with his mouth were too much. She couldn’t even think coherently.

 

When he finally let up on her, he was wearing the most self-satisfied smirk that only made her want to hate him more. “You are insufferable,” she told him with a frown.

 

“And you are easy to manipulate, Granger,” he said, his voice low and graveley with desire.

 

She preened for a moment when she realized that he was just as affected by this as she was, only to feel her stomach drop when he returned to kissing her, moving down, down her body, his fingers trailing at her sides leaving gooseflesh in their wake, until they stopped at the edges of her knickers. His lips met the top of the black lace and paused for just a moment while her mind clicked into gear and she realized what he was about to do.

 

Trying to squeeze her legs shut, but hindered by his broad shoulders, Hermione whined low in her throat. “Don’t Riddle-”

 

“I don’t think  _ you _ are really in the position to order me around, Granger,” he cut her off with a stern look. “Are you?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the lace -- the last thing keeping her from his eyes -- down her spread legs. She squeaked in surprise seeing the absolutely  _ delighted _ look on his face when she was finally revealed to him. “Look at how  _ wet _ you got,” he said, eagerly, his intense blue eyes not leaving her form.

 

Hermione whined low in her throat, unsure of what she should do, lying open and exposed in front of her enemy, her knickers dangling off one foot precariously. Unable to keep looking at him for fear she might combust, Hermione let her head fall back with a groan. 

 

She felt his fingers running between her lips and the low hiss he made at how easily his fingertips could glide against her sex. Her hips bucked against him when his finger circled around the bud at the top of her sex, only to slide back down and enter her slowly, so slowly.

 

“Tom-” she begged, hating how quickly she’d broken. Hermione didn’t have to be looking at him to know that he was smirking at her once again, all the while using his fingers to penetrate her again and again.

 

The first touch of his mouth to her clit was overwhelming. Never one to do anything by half measures, he hadn’t pressed his tongue against her in a tentative lick, but rather kissed her soundly. It made Hermione keen, her back arching up from the desk she was displayed on.

 

Tom broke away, grinning. “You make the prettiest noises,” he praised her, before returning to the task he’d started. With his mouth against her flesh, he quickly discovered the rhythm that she enjoyed the most, alternating between firm sucks that had her seeing white with their intensity and insistent circles of his tongue around her bud. All the while, he never let up using his fingers to penetrate her again and again.

 

She wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but all worries of the rest of the day melted away until there was nothing but Tom. Her neck craned, she kept eye contact with his mischievous blue eyes, pupils blown, her mouth left parted from an inability to do anything but just feel. Her fingers had found their way into his wavy, dark hair and she never wanted him to leave his spot between her thighs.

 

Moaning as she got closer and closer to her peak, Hermione could feel every muscle in her body tightening, pushing forward to the edge of ecstasy. Nothing else mattered but Tom and what he was doing to her body, the hot kisses he was giving her cunt slowly building her up to a mind blowing conclusion.

 

“Oh  _ god _ , Tom,” Hermione finally cried when she came, pressing her eyes shut and feeling her body tighten around his fingers. He didn’t stop licking against her center, nursing her over the wave of orgasm patiently. Hermione felt the oscillations of pleasure moving through her body, from the tip of her nose all the way down to her toes, but anchored in her aching core.

 

That had been brilliant, mind blowing really, but she wanted  _ more _ .

 

Feeling herself slowly come back into her body, Hermione immediately blushed, pulling her hands back from Riddle’s head as if he’d burned her. He  _ laughed _ at her, standing up between her legs and looking down at her naked body, spread before him like a feast. “I’ll ask you again, Granger,” he said with that sexy,  _ sinister _ voice of his. “Can’t you think of  _ anything _ ...” he let his pointer finger trail down from her pouty lower lip, down between her breasts, before stopping just at the top of her sex, “that you can trade me in exchange for letting you go?” he asked.

 

Dumbly, Hermione nodded eagerly, praying that he wasn’t going to make her  _ say the words _ .

 

“In a negotiation, Granger, you would usually offer me your  _ terms _ ,” he said with a smirk, not letting up.

 

Moaning, knowing that he was going to make her say the words, she pressed her hands to her face. “I’ll...I’ll give you myself, Riddle,” she said, her breath sucking in when she felt his fingers against her wet slit once again.

 

“Come on, you begged for me so prettily when I licked your cunt,” he teased back. “I want to hear you do it again,” he instructed, leaning over her body so that he could whisper the words in her ear.

 

“I’ll offer you my...god, my cunt Riddle,” she said, stuttering through the words, hating how she was responding to him so easily. She’d completely folded after a few whispered words and touches. “I’ll fuck you, if you’ll let me go,” she offered.

 

“Well, since you’ve asked  _ so nicely _ ,” Riddle said with a grin. Before she could respond, he had his hands at her waist, picking her up from her spot on the table. Walking backwards, he returned to the chair he’d been sitting in previously, positioning her body so that she was straddled over his waist. “Have at it,” he offered, leaning back to watch her work.

 

Hermione groaned, feeling the wool of his trousers against her bare sex, finding the disparateness of their dress arousing. It was difficult to undo his trousers with her wrists tied together, but she was able to manage, standing on her tiptoes to push the fabric down past his hips. Her hands were shaking by the time that she looked at his boxer briefs, the dark fabric straining against his erection.

 

She grabbed him through the fabric, only to hear him hiss. Looking up cautiously, Hermione stared at his face, breathlessly. He wore a five o’clock shadow and his mouth was open in unrestrained pleasure. Slowly, his clenched eyes opened when she didn’t continue to move, revealing blown pupils surrounded by a thin ring of deep blue. He really was  _ far _ too handsome for his own good.

 

Feeling her own body clench in unsated desire, Hermione used her fingers to catch the elastic band of his underwear, pleased when he helped her to shove them down over his hips, his cock springing free. Hermione made an unbidden noise in the back of her throat when she finally saw him, knowing that he was going to feel so good inside of her.

 

Using her hands, she stroked him several more times before positioning himself at her entrance. Then, without ceremony, she took him inside of her, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to hide her body’s reaction to him.

 

Tom didn’t need to see her face to know how he was affecting her, though. God, she could practically  _ feel _ his smirk when he put his hands onto her hips and encouraged her to move, her still hypersensitive clit pressed against him with every downstroke. It didn’t take long for her to begin to move with him, everything really feeling  _ far _ too good for her to resist.

 

He used his teeth to kiss her neck, pulling her until she was sitting upright, giving him access once again to her breasts. With his lips wrapped around one hard bud, Hermione could no longer suppress her moans and whimpers. “Tom, Tom-” she begged, unable to even blush and her neediness. “Please-”

 

The man underneath her cut her off with a fierce kiss, plundering her mouth while his thrusts grew more erratic.  _ Good _ , she thought to herself,  _ he’s just as close as I am _ . Her legs were aching, but she was just so  _ fucking close _ that she couldn’t stop her frantic movements against him, her eyes clenched tightly while she chased the high.

 

Sucking in her breath, her entire being focused on him, Hermione felt herself coming undone around him, snapping like a rubber band that had been pulled too tight, her core pulsing around his hard length.

 

“Hermione-” he groaned, her name swallowed by his pleasure. Then, she could feel him coming inside of her too, holding her hips down against his body, until she was positive that she’d have bruises in the morning. 

 

She pressed her face against his neck once again, listening to his heartbeat slow down from it’s frenetic pace. When she finally pulled back, she saw that he was laughing. “So,  _ that’s _ how you wish our first meeting had really gone?” Tom asked her, with a devious smirk on his face. His hands caught her’s easily, and he pulled at the bindings at her wrists, freeing her.

 

Hermione blushed, but nodded up at her boyfriend eagerly. “I mean, if you’d actually tried it at the time, I never would have agreed,” she told him, wetting her lips.

 

Tom pressed a kiss to her forehead first, then the tip of her nose, and then to her parted lips. “It would have been much easier than what we had to go through, you must admit,” he said, remembering the months that it had taken him to seduce her over to his side, after she’d been caught trying to steal from him.

 

“Your  _ hard _ work paid off in the end,” she teased, swiveling her hips against him, his cock stirring to life again inside of her.

 

He gave her a pinch on the bottom for her cheek, before helping her stand on wobbly legs. “I think that calls for continued  _ negotiations _ in the bedroom, Granger,” he teased her once again, pulling his pants up his legs, but leaving them unbuttons and unbelted. 

 

Hermione cursed her boyfriend for looking  _ quite _ so sexy. “That’s fine Mr. Riddle,” she teased him back. “But I think that you’ll find I’m prone to...underhanded tactics,” she added, rubbing her hand against his crotch. 

 

She dared hope that their  _ negotiations _ would last until morning.   
  



End file.
